


Golden Like the Sun

by Entwinedlove



Series: Golden Like the Sun 'verse [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-07-28 09:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16238924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwinedlove/pseuds/Entwinedlove
Summary: Antonin ropes Rabastan into helping him kidnap Hermione.





	Golden Like the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Ordinary Writing Levels's 31 Days of Halloween  
> day 31 prompt: costumes
> 
> [](https://i.imgur.com/J29h8x3.jpg)

"What are you doing?" Rabastan asked, feeling a little flabbergasted. He'd agreed to help Dolohov but he had no idea he was helping him kidnap someone. So far, he hadn't triggered the pain from the modified Imperius Curse. He wasn't sure if Dolohov was experiencing it, bastard could always handle pain, even torture, under near silence—just like Snape. Merlin, it had been a long time since he'd thought about that fucker.

"What does it look like?" Dolohov finally answered. The bundled body of a woman twisted and squirmed where he held her over his shoulder. Rabastan could just make out the cream and gold of her gown as she kicked her feet and the hem of her dress fluttered out under the black cloak she was wrapped in.

"Morgana's bloody—" Rabastan paused to grab one of her ankles, stopping her from kicking Dolohov in the kidney, "You kidnapped Granger."

The squirming and muffled shouts grew a tad more frantic and Dolohov reached up with his other hand and smacked her on the rump. "Are you going to help or not?" he asked.

Rabastan didn't know why he said it, perhaps it was the desire that had pooled in his groin when he'd seen her, or the itch in his palms when he wanted to ask her to dance, or the twinge in his chest when he thought of her alone with Dolohov, but he nodded and felt the stabbing pain in his temple. "Yeah, yes, whatever, I want in."

The next thing Rabastan realised was that Dolohov had clamped a hand on his arm, pressing part of the black cloak wrapped around Granger between them. A hook behind his navel alerted him to the Portkey travel partial seconds before they disappeared. It had been so long since he'd travelled like that he stumbled and had to breathe deeply a few times to settle his stomach. He looked around, getting his bearings.

They were in a small cabin with wood panel walls reminiscent of the style of his youth. The living space and kitchen were shared and there seemed to be a loft. Two doors led to separate areas. Rabastan assumed one was a bathroom, the other door, sturdier and thick must lead outside. It was noticeably colder inside the cabin than the mild October they had had in London.

"Light a fire, would you?" Dolohov said, pointing toward the fireplace with a small pile of wood ready and waiting. He heaved the bundle of woman off his shoulder and eased her onto the small dining table. Rabastan did as he was asked and watched Dolohov unwrap Granger with gentle hands.

Her mask was gone and her hair was free of her plait. Her make-up was smudged and her dress was rumpled but otherwise, she looked unharmed. She pulled hair that had got caught in her mouth away with her hand and then levelled a glare at Dolohov. Her gaze flicked around the room and Rabastan knew she saw him but as he was across the room he wasn't the greater threat.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked him, her outrage at being kidnapped plain in her tone and on her face.

"I've heard you were the one who made the pain-modifications to the Imperius they put on parolees. Take it off," Dolohov said.

"And why would I do that? You've obviously found a way to work around it already, why would I remove some of the only protection I have available to me at the moment? You've already taken my wand and my mobile."

Dolohov grunted and cast two quick non-verbal spells, silencing and rebounding her with thin silken ties. She started to speak and stopped when she realised she was silenced.

"Silk, Dolohov? Really?" Rabastan asked as he walked closer to them.

"Silk doesn't hurt," he said gruffly. "The loft gets cold, Granger, and your dress is thin. You won't freeze but you're not going to be comfortable. I'll ask again in an hour or two." Dolohov hoisted her up onto his shoulder again and carried her up the tilted ladder to the loft. Rabastan heard her body thump onto the wooden floor. He wondered if there was a bed or if the loft only had a pallet on the floor. Dolohov came back down and headed to a small drinks cart near the sofa. He poured two tumblers of firewhisky and held one out to Rabastan. Once Rabastan had taken the tumbler Dolohov settled at one side of the couch and propped his feet up on the low table in front of the fire. He gestured for Rabastan to sit.

They enjoyed their whisky with the crackling of the fire as the only ambience for a long while before a loud thud echoed down from the loft. Dolohov nodded as the thudding started up, a continued bump-bump-bump. "Took her less time to start that than I anticipated," he said, but he made no move to stand and confront the girl.

"Dolohov," Rabastan said, pausing once as if he thought the thumping would quiet. It didn't, so he continued, "How did you get past the headache for planning this out?"

The dark haired man smiled. "Thinking of kidnapping her caused pain. The original act of snatching her caused pain... but now that she's here? I haven't been thinking of hurting her." His smile turned into a leer.

"You're planning on seducing her?" Rabastan asked, his volume dropping to a whisper.

Dolohov nodded. "You're going to help me."

"I am? It's been a bloody long time since I've been with a woman; I won't be of any help whatsoever."

"I've stocked the cabin. We've got food and supplies for at least a month if not more. It's not like I expect her to be seduced and willing after one night."

The thumping got louder and flatter sounding and Dolohov's eyebrows quirked moments before a heavy, hardback book came soaring out of the loft at their heads. Rabastan's whisky sloshed in its glass as he dodged the book and Dolohov stood to prevent the book from striking him across the face. They both looked up to see Granger glaring down at them from her bound hands and knees. Dolohov tipped his head back and laughed loudly. "Should have expected you to be feisty, shouldn't I?" he asked her. As he set his tumbler down on the cart and headed towards the ladder her eyes widened and she shifted back, hiding in the dark corners of the loft that Rabastan couldn't see.

He was tempted to follow and he almost stood up to do so but changed his mind. He returned to his seat on the couch and he listened. Dolohov had removed the Silencing Charm from her.

"Are you going to cooperate now?" he asked.

"Absolutely not! Why would I cooperate and allow you to do me harm?"

"We're not going to harm you. We can't, remember?"

"You kidnapped me! That's harm! Why aren't you in pain now?"

"It is as you said, kidnapped. It's past. Now that you're here in my cabin and I have no further criminal plans, the pain goes away."

"Damn," she muttered to herself. "I didn't expect it to work that way."

"You don't think like a former Death Eater, no. I wouldn't expect you to," he said. There were footsteps as he moved closer and his voice gentled and lowered in volume and pitch. "Are you cold?"

"N-n-no," she answered. Rabastan didn't think the loft could be cold enough for her to stutter, although he was in formal robes and she was in a thin dress. He suspected the stutter was from nerves at Dolohov's approach.

There were some flickers of spell flashes, white, and then Dolohov said. "Fine. You know how to let us know when you get cold. There will be no more flying books or furniture. Everything is Sticky Charmed down."

"You're just... going to keep me here? What if I need to go to the toilet?" Her words had started out soft and insecure but by the end of her second question, her sass and outrage had reappeared.

"There's one downstairs. Let me know and I'll take you to it."

"So you can be a pervert and watch?"

"I have no interest in watching you use the toilet, no," Dolohov answered. He must have silenced her again as there was no reply, only a thump-thump where she must have hit the floor with her fists or heels. Dolohov started back down the ladder. "And don't keep thumping. You'll end up hurting yourself."

He joined Rabastan in the little sitting area and picked up his tumbler, sipping at his firewhisky. He picked up the book that she had sent sailing towards his head and cracked it open, nodding to himself as he started to read.

Rabastan didn't let his host's quiet way bother him. He'd known the other man long enough to understand that sharing his firewhisky was about the extent of his hospitality. Bast didn't mind. He sipped his whisky, letting the crackle of the fire and the warmth of the liquor soothe him into a pleasant doze. He was awakened with a quiet thump-thump from the loft. The fire had grown low in the grate and his feet were starting to feel some of the chill from the outside air as it pressed in on the cabin. Dolohov had set aside his book and seemed to have been staring into the fire thinking but at Granger's stirring, he roused himself to head back up the ladder to tend to their kidnappee.

"Are you cold, Granger?"

"I've got to go to the toilet," she muttered.

Dolohov disappeared into the dark loft.

"I can walk!" Granger squawked. Her protests were ignored as Dolohov carried her over his shoulder back down the ladder. He took her to the door that Bast had assumed was the loo and set her on her feet in the doorway. "Aren't you going to unbind my hands?" she asked.

"No, you can clean yourself with them in front of you like that," he answered. He pulled the door closed between them and headed back to the loft while he waited.

"Aren't you worried she'll try to escape?" Bast asked up to him.

"No." They waited a minute or so before there was a loud bang in the room she was in. "Go see what she's doing now," Dolohov commanded.

Bast frowned but did so, standing and walking to the door. He opened it to find a tiny little room with no window. Granger was sitting on the floor in front of the sink with a pout on her face rubbing the side of her head. Inside the small room was a shower stall, toilet, and the sink with a single cupboard underneath it. Dolohov was right, there was no way she could escape from here.

"What happened?" he asked.

She glared at him even as he moved into the room and reached down, offering his hand to help her up.

"I was snooping and my skirt caught on the bottom of the cupboard and I felt into the wall," she answered, taking him up on his offer and standing. She was even shorter than he imagined this close to him. "He took my shoes and now I'm tripping on my dress."

"Maybe that's why he's been carrying you everywhere."

She refreshed her glare and narrowed her eyes at him. "Why are you here?"

"Here with you in the loo or here with you and Dolohov in this cabin?"

"The latter," she said, she tried to squeeze herself between him and the wall to get around him but the room was tiny and she only pushed herself against him instead. He couldn't seem to help himself when he turned and pressed his body against hers, flattening her against the wall. Her bound hands squished between them above her breasts. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice rising in pitch as she found herself trapped.

He swallowed and rested his forehead against the wall over her shoulder. He breathed in to try to focus but all he could smell was the wooden walls and her sweet perfume. "I don't know why I'm here," he answered before turning his head to nuzzle into her hair. She pushed at him with her hands and her hips, trying to leverage herself with the wall to push him away. It only served to press her soft curves more into him. He could feel his cock stir to life against her stomach and he opened his eyes and stepped back enough not to rub against her. He still bracketed her in with his arms against the wall.

"Please let me go," she whispered, and the fight and sass had left her voice.

"It's not my call," he said just as softly.

"He's going to hurt me." She spoke her words with conviction and a desperation that had his heart thumping for her.

He shook his head. "No, he's not."

"Please," she said, her whisper cracking the word into two syllables as she begged. "Let me go."

He stepped back enough for her to move away from him, out of the toilet. He followed after her, mindful of her skirt trailing behind her. She wasn't as careful and she tripped on it at the threshold of the door and would have fallen had he not rushed forward to grab her. His arms had gone around her torso and he could feel her breasts against his arm.

"You're right about the dress. It's too long without your shoes. What sort of costume was this, anyway? What were you supposed to be?" he said, setting her on her feet.

She blushed a little and ducked her head. From the loft, Dolohov had come into the dim light to look down at them, perhaps interested in the answer.

"Bast, the Egyptian cat goddess and goddess of the sun."

Bast couldn't help himself and laughed loudly. When he got his guffaws under control, he nodded. "She also protects the home from snakes and is the goddess of fertility," he added, letting his gaze drift down her plump curves. "It's perfect."

She blushed again and turned from him. She made use of her bound hands and hiked up her skirt enough so she wouldn't trip as she headed towards the seating area.

"It's bedtime, little one," Dolohov called just as she sat next to the warm embers in the fireplace.

Her eyes darted around the space until they returned to the loft where he was standing looking down at her. "But there's only one bed?" she asked, confused. Her eyes suddenly widened and she shook her head. "No, no! I'll sleep on the floor right here. I'm not..."

"The embers will burn out and you will get cold in that flimsy little dress. We'll keep you warm." Dolohov said. His tipped his head to look at Bast. He got the impression that he would have to be the one to bring her up to the bed.

Her wide eyes sought him out and she seemed to realise that he was just as dangerous to her as Dolohov despite never having cast a spell at her. He walked towards her and she stumbled back, tripping on her dress again and trying to crab-crawl back away from him. Her back was pressed against the wooden wall by the time he reached her.

"Come on, my goddess," he murmured at her reaching down his hands for her again. She did not take them this time and turned to try to crawl away from him. Her dress made it too difficult to go far. He reached down and wrapped his arms around her torso again, picking her up. She was heavy but he didn't mind. She struggled in his grip as he tried to climb the ladder and halfway up, her skirt caught under his foot and the material ripped. He paused, feeling a bit embarrassed and rude for destroying her clothes but it gave her a chance to wiggle more in his arms. "Stop! Stop, Granger. You're going to make me drop you and you'll hit your head. Stop."

She did, though her breath was starting to come in shaky gasps and she was staring into the darkness of the cabin with a glazed and empty look to her eyes. At the top of the ladder, Dolohov knelt and reached down for her. "Here, let me take her." Bast passed the girl over to him and let his eyes linger on her as Dolohov pulled her close to his chest and whispered in her ear. Her panic lessened and she tried to take in forceful gasps of air.

Dolohov carried her over to the mattress and laid her down gently. As Bast came close he realised that Dolohov had changed into flannel pyjamas and had put a flannel nightgown and a pair of thick wool socks on Granger's lap. There was a second set of pyjamas on the other side of the mattress. He pointed to them and Bast picked them up and started changing.

"Get changed, Granger, don't want to damage your gown any further." He vanished the silk ties that had bound her hands together.

"I don't..."

"Get dressed," Dolohov said, gruffer this time.

"Fine." She pursed her lips and scooted off the mattress, stepping into the farthest corner of the loft where it was the darkest so they wouldn't see her. When she padded closer, Bast had also finished changing. "Now what?"

"Now we sleep. You're in the middle."

"I want to go home," she demanded, her arms braced on her hips.

"I want the pain-modification to go away. Seems we're at an  _impasse_ . Get in the bed."

She huffed but did as she was told. Bast didn't blame her. He had been fully dressed in formal robes but his feet and legs were still chilled. He couldn't imagine how cold she must have been in her costume. Dolohov settled down on his back and when Granger slipped under the thick fur blankets she stayed on the edge.

"Come here, girl," Dolohov said, holding out his arm to her.

"I'm fine here," she said, stubbornly.

"Bast isn't. Budge up and let him in."

She took a breath and started to speak but stopped herself. She inched her way a little further into the middle of the mattress. Bast knelt and crawled under the thick furs with her and let his body start to curl around her. She stiffened and wiggled away from him. She squeaked when she realised that manoeuvrer had put her within Dolohov's reach. He pulled her close against his body and moved her so her head lay on his shoulder. He glanced over her curls and jerked his head at Bast. Bast curled up behind her, trapping her between them. She squeaked again when he laid his hand on her hip.

"We're not going to hurt you," he murmured against the back of her neck.

She pressed her feet back against his leg and her toes were like ice even through her socks and his flannel trousers.

"Where are we?" she asked with a whisper.

"My cabin."

"What country is your cabin in?" she asked, her volume raising a bit with her agitation.

"A cold one."

Bast chuckled and tucked his hand further around her waist. As he was falling asleep, he felt her snuggle further into his embrace. He smiled. He didn't know what else Dolohov had planned but he was interested in finding out.


End file.
